Dogwood
by Infinite Ravens
Summary: Harry's entire life is flipped upside down as proof of another world appears. But who are the real monsters and how do run when you're hunted by the Light and the Dark? And just what is this secret power that the prophecy speaks of? Harrymort, rated M just to be on the safe side.
1. An Unexpected Miracle

**Author's Note: I guess I should give you guys some warnings. This story will have MPreg, but hopefully in a way you haven't seen before and hopefully a bit believable. This is a slash story, I am labeling it Harrymort for now but I haven't decided if it's more Harrymort or Tomarry. This will be part of a multiverse series I'm working on but mostly, this is just for entertainment. I have a tendency to judge my own writing so harshly that I lose my muse, but with this I'm writing purely for the joy of writing. Sorry in advance if it's awful or cliche. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.**

 **DOGWOOD**

If there was one thing Petunia Dursley was most proud of most people would assume it was her son. Harry Potter knew his aunt better than most. Despite her outward charm of a suburban housewife; Petunia was a nosey, intolerant, and domineering woman. Harry's aunt was fanatical when it came to the appearance of perfection to her neighbors and expected excellence when it came to the long list of chores she assigned her nephew. The most important of which was the care of the Hydrangeas.

Harry hated working in the garden at Private Drive so much that even Herbology in the greenhouses of Hogwarts had become a detested subject. With no reprieve from the scorching sun, the unwanted leers of neighboring housewives, and only water from the garden hose to drink – Harry was left with nothing but rage churning in his stomach as he dug, fertilized, and weeded. The long hours of yardwork left his hands blistered and his back burnt from the sun when it was just too hot to wear Dudley's second-hand clothes that were six sizes too big.

But Harry worked hard despite how much he hated gardening because at least it was something to focus on. He would rather have the rage in gut as his companion than to be left alone with the dreams of Voldemort. Even when Harry was awake in Dudley's second bedroom the images flashed vividly in his mind. At night, the images were worse. Harry would see through Voldemort's eyes as the monster weaved magic Harry had never even dreamed of.

If only Voldemort was out causing murder and mayhem, Harry thought as he took his wrath out on a small section of spikey looking weeds at the back of the flower patch. It would be so much easier to deal with the horror of a monster than to fight his own monsters. But since the death of the muggle caretaker who had ignorantly wandered into the house Voldemort had claimed at the beginning of summer there had been no other deaths.

Harry had been left with his own roiling emotions – jealousy and rage. He watched as Voldemort worked spells and rituals by night and festered in his envy by day as he was forced to slave away the muggle way with the ghostly echo of Voldemort's power reverberating inside of him. The magic that was being wielded in his dreams as Voldemort began to fortify his house left Harry aching to do magic of his own.

He missed the feel of his wand in his hand and the warmth it always brought to him. Harry ached to feel the thrum of a spell as his magic coursed through him. Without his wand, Harry felt disconnected from the world he truly belonged in and there had been no word from Professor Dumbledore about when Harry could leave Private Drive and visit the Burrow.

With no end in sight the days at Private Drive were long, strenuous, and depressing. Each day there was some laborious task for him to do while his stomach growled ferociously with only hose water to try and deceive his aching body. Harry knew he needed more sustenance than the little the Dursley's allowed him, but he couldn't risk the wrath of his Uncle Vernon by sneaking food during the day – and at night Harry's door was locked with seven different bolts.

All of that could have been tolerable if Harry had only had someone to talk to. As it were, his letter to his friends and Sirius Black might as well have gone unanswered. His questions about news of Voldemort in the public had been ignored by Ron and Hermione – Sirius had responded but only to say that Harry should forget about Voldemort. Their letters only gave enough away that Harry knew they were all together, happy and fed, whilst he was left with muggles – starved and slaved.

At that moment, Harry wasn't sure who he despised more – Voldemort or Dumbledore.

Throwing the last of the weeds into the bin, Harry fell back onto the green grass of the Dursley's back yard with a relieved sigh. He was done for the day and could relax in the shade beneath the oak tree as the sun set – perhaps even take a nap when the chances of slipping into Voldemort's mind were fewer. He should have known better, Harry Potter had the worst luck imaginable.

"Boy," Petunia called loudly from the back door in the kitchen, "I'm taking Dudley and Piers to the movies, are you done yet?"

Knowing better than to admit that he was, Harry lied. "Not yet, a few more hours – Uncle Vernon asked me to clean out the shed, something about a hornet's nest inside."

Aunt Petunia's already thin lips pursed into a nonexistent line but the thought of Harry suffering the stings of hornets kept her placated. "Stay out of the house until I return - and don't you dare disturb the neighbors."

Harry knew better than to tell his aunt that he wouldn't have even thought about it because he knew they'd report it back to Petunia straight away. Instead he nodded and waved as he pulled himself up off the soft grass and made his way to the shed in pretense. The sound of the sliding glass door closing made Harry stop and he didn't move until he heard the car starting.

Aunt Petunia probably hadn't even made it to the end of the street before Harry was standing in front of the refrigerator, combing the shelves for food that wouldn't be missed. He ate greedily and barely tasted anything as he scarfed food down. An old banana that had developed a black spot, a sleeve of saltines hidden in the back, a few bites of cold take out, and as much milk to wash it down as he could take.

Harry had been sneaking food like this whenever he could for so long that he knew all the tricks of sneaking food under Petunia's watchful eye. He filled the milk back up with a bit of water and tossed the banana out of the window and into the garden where he could bury it later, and he hid the empty plastic sleeve the crackers had come in inside a box in the trash. He never got too greedy because Harry knew that Petunia wouldn't hesitate to bring down her husband's wrath for stealing.

Even so, Harry helped himself to the pantry and went rummaging for anything he could hide away in a loose floorboard under his bed. He found a few apples, some canned fruit with a tab on the lid for easy opening, and even a few oranges that wouldn't be missed. Harry's arms were full as he made his way to his bedroom with a racing heart. He knew logically that he wouldn't be caught but his adrenaline wouldn't calm until he had safely closed the bedroom door behind him.

Once Harry opened his door he dropped everything he was holding. The food went rolling and sliding across the floor. He gaped as he watched an orange roll across the floor and collide with an arm splayed across the floor. For a moment Harry could do nothing but stare at the figure lying on his bedroom floor in befuddlement because _he_ was lying on his floor.

Feeling stupid, Harry touched the door to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. His hand didn't go through as a ghost would have, it landed firmly against the wood. But then that meant that there was someone who looked exactly like Harry lying on his floor. Cautiously, Harry stepped forward and his eyes widened as he took in the differences between himself and the Harry on the floor.

The variances were astounding. Whoever was on his floor _looked_ like Harry but their stomach was protruding as if there was a basketball under their robes, or as if they were very, very pregnant. Harry dropped to his knees and began searching through the unconscious person's pockets but stopped short when he saw their hands. Harry's stomach flipped around as he saw that the stranger's hands were black. Not dark, Harry realized, but as if someone had dipped his hands in inky black paint.

What had happened? Who was this? Harry was almost too afraid to touch the unconscious person on his floor as he wondered who on earth it could be. Had someone used a Polyjuice Potion? He knew that the Polyjuice sometimes came with horrible side effects if the potion was contaminated by viscera, or animal DNA, or if the user was pregnant as this person so obviously was. But Polyjuice didn't explain the inky black color that Harry could now see extended clear up to the throat, chest, and even slowly working its way in tendrils to the face. Harry tried shaking a clothed piece of the cursed stranger but had to rip his hand away just in time as one of the afflicted ones tried to grab him.

Dull, glassy emerald eyes met bright, lively ones and Harry stumbled backwards onto his arse in surprise. "Who are you?" He asked the injured stranger on his floor with wide eyes. "Why do you look like me?"

Harry was expecting the person to be either a Death Eater or perhaps someone Professor Dumbledore had sent. But he wasn't prepared for the wheezing reply he got. "I am you," the injured Harry said as he struggled to pull himself up so that he could rest against the bed. "Or at least a version of you."

The response made Harry's head swim as he tried to grasp what he was being told. "You can't be me – _I'm me!"_ But this only made the injured and very pregnant Harry wheeze out a laugh before he groaned in pain. "What happened to you?"

The stranger-Harry coughed, and he was alarmed to find that black spittle appeared on the stranger's emerald outer robe. For a second all the stranger could do was cough and hack up black goo painfully, when he could breathe again he rolled his head to the side to face Harry. "I've – I've been cursed." Harry could hear the strangers breathes crackling in his lungs.

"No shit," Harry deadpanned, "We need to get you to a Healer."

"No," the injured Harry cried out before breaking into a fit of wheezing, "They can't help me. I don't want them to help me."

"I don't understand," Harry cried in frustration as his injured look alike kept shaking his head back and forth. If he didn't know any better he'd say the injured Harry had been in some kind of duel or fight. Now that he was looking he could see the spell residue where he had been hit. "Why do you look like me and what's going on?"

The injured Harry grabbed Harry's shirt with a surprisingly strong grip. "They killed him," he croaked and Harry was dumbfounded to see tears in his eyes. For a moment the world stopped and his heart dropped into the floor – were they talking about Professor Dumbledore? "They killed Tom –" It was almost too much to bear for the injured Harry because he seemed to lose all his strength and his hand fell to the baby bump.

"What – you mean Voldemort?" Harry couldn't believe his ears. Had Professor Dumbledore found a way to kill Voldemort? Wouldn't he have felt it? It had to have been just today – he had just slipped into Voldemort's mind the night before. Could Voldemort really be dead? Why had no one come to tell him?

"I can't –" the injured Harry let his head roll back and his face crumpled in pain. "I can't live without him."

"B-but it's Voldemort," Harry cried in alarm, "Are you a Death Eater?" Already on his arse, Harry tried to scramble backwards but the injured Harry caught the leg of his jeans and held on with a grip of steel.

Dull emerald eyes pierced Harry with an unexpected sharpness. "Listen," he rasped so seriously that Harry had no choice but to listen even though he was beginning to think that this doppelganger was a Death Eater who had come for revenge. "Tom…is our…bonded."

"Bonded?" Harry didn't like the sound of that but he really didn't like how the doppelganger kept saying 'our' and 'we'.

"The soul piece…in our scars…we are bonded…" Harry's stomach sank as he eyed the other Harry's forehead. There was a lightning bolt scar – just like his own – and those could not be faked. His – their – scars were cursed. Professor Dumbledore had told him no magic could remove it and Hermione had even theorized that even Polyjuice couldn't replicate it. But what did being bonded mean?

"I – I don't have much time," the injured Harry pulled Harry even closer. "Our baby, you have to take it – you have to raise our child. I can't leave it an orphan…please…"

The request brought Harry up short. He tried to decline – tried to tell this doppelganger that he was still in school. He couldn't possibly take care of a child when he was loped into mortal danger every year. But his mouth had gone dry and the words were stuck in his throat. "Are you really me? You aren't Polyjuiced or glamoured?"

"I'm…Harry James Potter-Riddle…the Dark Lord's consort…" The injured Harry let go of Harry and reached into the pocket of his robes. He pulled out a photograph and stared at it with tears in his eyes for a moment before handing it over. Harry and Voldemort were dancing. It looked as if the picture had been taken without their knowledge because the two were so blissfully wrapped up in each other's gaze.

Harry's chest began to seize as he watched Voldemort dip Harry back, exposing the rotund belly. Harry's delighted smile was blindingly happy. He had never seen himself look so content. The doppelganger really was Harry… "I – I only had enough power for one trip…please…I can't leave until I know our child's safe with his father."

Father. Harry had never even considered the possibility of becoming a father. He definitely didn't know that men could get pregnant in the magical world or that he was gay…hell he definitely had never thought it possible to even say a nice word to Voldemort – let alone dance with the man. But none of that really mattered. In another world he had chosen Voldemort, granted it must be a backwards world where all things evil were good, but that didn't mean anything here on this world. It was still half of Harry. He could raise the child here by himself. He could have an actual family to love. He and this little baby from an alternate universe.

"I have so many questions –" Harry gasped as the other Harry put his blackened hand to his stomach and began to chant so faintly that Harry couldn't hear more than his crackling breaths. There wasn't much time left, he realized, as the black curse was beginning to envelope his other self's chin and forehead.

No, it wasn't just slowly moving. As the magic in the air picked up and blew the letters on his desk around Harry realized that the inky blackness was feeding off the magic. It was devouring the other Harry as he used the last bit of his life to chant.

There was a flash of bright, white light and everything went dark.


	2. The Order of the Phoenix

**DOGWOOD**

Harry was roused awake by the sunlight in his face. His entire body was stiff and he realized he was on the floor. With great effort Harry pushed himself up into a seated position and nearly screamed when he found a blackened body lying next to him. Harry backed away in fear as he tried to swallow the urge to throw up as the smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils. But when Harry tried to stand he really did scream.

It looked as though there were a basketball under Dudley's old shirt. Harry lifted the hem of his shirt and found his stomach distended and covered in blotchy bruises. Reverently, Harry traced a bruise with his finger as the encounter of Harry from another world began to flood into his mind.

The emotion that Harry had shown for this baby made Harry's hands shake. How on earth could he have said yes? He was in no position to be a father. But how on earth could he have said no? This child was half him – it didn't matter who the other half was. This baby would be his family, he would love and care for it and it would grow to love him too. They could be happy.

It was all Harry had ever wanted.

But there was a lot to sort out. Namely, that _his_ Voldemort was still alive and Harry was still in school. Hell, he couldn't even leave the Dursley's and he'd be damned if he would be raising a child in this hell hole he'd grown up in. No, he'd need to write to Dumbledore and find somewhere safe to raise this child. Not to mention he needed to get rid of the body that was lying on the floor.

Harry managed to get on all fours to crawl to the desk to stand, but stopped when his hand brushed the photograph on the floor. Harry and Voldemort were dancing happily – happier than either of them in this world had ever been, he'd wager. It was such an off-putting sight to see himself dancing with the man who had tried to kill him so many times.

Harry tucked the photograph into his pocket and reached the desk to pull himself up. Having such a large stomach made it almost impossible to get up on his own and when he did manage to stand his entire center of gravity was off. It was a task in itself just to get seated at the desk so that he could write Dumbledore and Harry nearly died at the thought of all Hogwarts' stairs.

In the letter Harry didn't reveal much. Only that it was an emergency and that he needed Dumbledore to come immediately because something had happened. Hedwig, of course, had puffed out her chest when Harry had told her how important it was that Professor Dumbledore receive the letter as soon as possible. She had taken to the morning skies and had disappeared from view only seconds later.

Just as Harry was shutting his window a rap at the door came before the familiar sound of the locks on his bedroom door being slid open. "Aunt Petunia!" Harry cried in alarm and looked around for anything to hold the door.

"Time to get up boy," she called as she continued to unlock his door. "Dudley is having friends over for tea today, so you get to go to the park."

He grabbed his desk chair and wedged it underneath the handle. He couldn't let his aunt see his pregnant stomach. She could hardly tolerate the "m" word, there was no telling what she'd do if she saw her nephew pregnant. "I'm sick Aunt Petunia, terrible – super contagious magical disease. You can't come in here – better yet you should probably take everyone out today. Professor Dumbledore is coming to pick me up soon to take me to the hospital but I'm not sure when."

There was no response but Harry could hear her cursing furiously under her breath as she walked back down the hall to her bedroom. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he relaxed against the door. He hadn't even noticed that his arms were holding his stomach until he felt the sting as he accidentally bumped a bruise. As he looked down at the enormous baby bump he felt all the surprise and fascination that he had felt upon waking wash over him again.

He was going to have a baby. An unexpected miracle that had hit him out of nowhere but a miracle nonetheless. Merlin, were Ron and Hermione going to freak. Not to mention Sirius, the poor man would probably have a stroke. Harry smiled to himself as he tried to picture the humorous faces of his friends' reactions.

Petunia and Dudley never came home so Harry allowed himself to eat whatever he wanted. After all, nobody was there to stop him and he would be leaving that night. So Harry devoured Dudley's ice cream and Uncle Vernon's apple pie. He even made himself a gourmet sandwich with all the trimmings and had some chips. The only time he had ever eaten better was within the walls of Hogwarts.

There was no word from Professor Dumbledore for hours. Harry spent most of that time channel surfing on the television while he absentmindedly ran a finger over the curve of his belly. That there was a human being growing inside never stopped blowing him away. Every time Harry thought he was comfortable with the idea he would once again look down, mesmerized by the sight.

What really got Harry excited was that his stomach was so _large._ He was pretty sure that this meant the baby was almost ready to be born – which gave way to a whole slew of new questions that Harry was eagerly looking forward to asking Madam Pomfrey all about it. He hoped she'd be able to tell him whether the baby was a boy or girl and how much longer he or she needed until they were ready to come out.

Just as Harry was trying to decide whether or not he preferred a boy or a girl, a column of fire erupted in his living room and Harry tightened the blanket he had curled up in. When the fire dissipated, Professor Dumbledore stood in magenta robes with orange stars on them and held Fawkes on his arm. The headmaster's wand was brandished and ready for a fight, but when he saw Harry sitting down on the sofa with no apparent danger or destruction his normally twinkling blue eyes grew frosty. "Harry, my boy," Dumbledore tucked his wand away and with a soft nudge Fawkes disappeared in a flash of fire, "What has happened? I hope I need not remind you that with Lord Voldemort's return I am very busy."

Harry didn't answer, he didn't honestly know how to say it. He didn't want the professor to be alarmed as Harry knew he'd be if this had happened to someone else. "Sir," Harry started slowly as he squeezed the blanket tighter and pushed himself off the couch. "I know this is shocking at first so – just don't freak out."

When Harry let the blanket fall, Professor Dumbledore's eyes went wide in disbelief. Harry almost immediately understood that his baby wasn't normal, even in the wizarding world. Professor Dumbledore came closer eyeing the bump under Harry's baggy shirt warily. "How did this happen," he asked in a grave whisper Harry had never heard him use before. "When did this happen? Who did this Harry?"

"I mean technically Voldemort and I did," Harry laughed slightly at the thought of his other self and Voldemort together. But Professor Dumbledore reared back and looked at Harry in horror. "No, no," Harry cried when he realized Professor Dumbledore wasn't understanding. "I mean not me – me, last night when I was finished with my chores I came up to my room and there was me! Well, another me anyways – I think it might have been some kind of alternate universe or a different world, because I think he was older than me – hard to tell now.

"Anyways," Harry continued nervously as he tried to stop his hands from shaking, "The main point is that there was this other me who turned out to actually be me from some other world and he was pregnant! But he was also dying – some really nasty curse I've never seen, he's upstairs in my bedroom if you want to see – we really need someone to clean that up – but anyways, before he died…he well, I don't know how he did it but it knocked me out and when I woke up I was the pregnant one and he was – well, dead, sir."

All of that Harry had rapidly spoken in one breath as his heart pounded furiously in his chest. He felt a weight lifted off his shoulders now that he had gotten that off his chest but Professor Dumbledore's eyes were glaciers now and when Harry realized this, his heart sank. "This – other Harry – he was with Voldemort? The child is theirs?"

Harry nodded, "Apparently his Voldemort had been killed and he was cursed with something awful and he didn't want their baby to be an orphan." Harry rubbed his stomach soothingly for reassurance as Professor Dumbledore stared. "He said something about a soul piece in our scars and how Voldemort and I were bonded, see?" Harry held out the photograph for Professor Dumbledore to see.

Dumbledore took the photo with an ashen complexion and a deep frown that made Harry nervous. Harry watched his headmaster take in the twirling couple with an almost frightened feeling. He had never seen his Professor look so angry before. "Anyways, that Harry is dead now. But I was hoping I could come to the Burrow now? Since the muggles would flip if they saw this," Harry waved a hand over his protruding belly. "and I'd really like Madam Pomfrey to check it out."

Dumbledore stood, his violently colored robes swaying as he did so. "Before we go Harry, I would like to examine the corpse if you don't mind."

Harry groaned and sat back down, "Sure it's upstairs in my room but I don't think I could get myself back up there right now. Will you bring down Hedwig's cage for me? The rest of my stuff is locked in the cupboard underneath the stairs."

"Of course," Professor Dumbledore acquiesced and left Harry in the living room. It wasn't until he was gone that Harry realized the temperature had dropped several degrees _because_ of his professor – and when he had left the temperature had returned to normal.

When Professor Dumbledore returned, his face had lost all of its natural color. "Are you okay, Professor?" Harry asked hesitantly. "I know it's a lot to take in but I just want to forget all about the dead me and take care of it."

This seemed to help cheer the headmaster up and he nodded – still looking as if he'd seen a ghost. "Don't worry Harry, Madam Pomfrey will examine you soon and we'll make a plan. You will be safe, I promise you." At that Harry smiled and stood as he watched Professor Dumbledore take out his wand and gave it a small wave. His trunk came sailing into the living room and parked itself right under Hedwig's cage. "Now before we leave I need to tell you that the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at Number 12, Grimmauld Place."

"The Order of the Phoenix?" Harry asked in confusion. He had never heard of such an order before.

Professor Dumbledore smiled down at Harry and nodded. "Yes, but I'll let your friends fill you in on all that you have missed. For now, take my arm and let us be off."

For a split second, the rage that Harry had been battling all summer flared to life at the reminder of how they had all kept him in the dark. He remembered Dumbledore's unanswered letters, Ron and Hermione's promises to Dumbledore to not tell him anything, and Sirius' wishes that he forget Voldemort for the summer. The rage would have consumed him if the thought of Apparition hadn't drowned him in worry.

"Is it safe?" Harry asked motioning to Professor Dumbledore's arm. "I mean now that I'm – you know…"

"Of course," Professor Dumbledore assured him. "You are not in the slightest danger Harry."

Harry grasped Professor Dumbledore's arm with a smile at his mentor. He felt safe now that Dumbledore was here. He knew his professor would help him hide away from Voldemort like he had helped Harry's parents. With a small _pop_ the pair disappeared from Private Drive.

When Harry landed he couldn't hold back the nausea and he wretched all over some muggle's bushes. All of the food he had just eaten had come hurling back up and by the time Harry was done his throat burned and his eyes watered. "That was awful," he rasped hoarsely as he tried to regain his composure.

"It gets better my boy," Professor Dumbledore promised with a small smile. "Now, let us get inside. It is not safe out here."

Before Harry could ask where Number Twelve was, Numbers Eleven and Thirteen began to move. Much to Harry's surprise the townhomes began to slide laterally and instead of leaving a gaping hole between them, Number Twelve – Grimmauld Place – appeared. Harry couldn't stop his gaping and he turned to Professor Dumbledore with a bright smile – only to find that his Headmaster was already on the front stoop.

With a frown and a tendril of anxiety, Harry hurried to catch up. His rotund stomach made it difficult to move very fast and Harry was trying not to realize that this meant no Quidditch. Professor Dumbledore barely waited for Harry as they entered the house but he did give pause to say, "Be very quiet Harry, those curtains you see on the far wall cover a portrait of Sirius Black's –"

At that moment a girl with shockingly pink hair came down the stairs and tripped over a troll's leg umbrella holder causing a loud _thud_. The curtains came snapping open and Harry watched with wide eyes as plump brunette lady with Sirius' grey eyes began to move. "FILTHY BLOODTRAITORS! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! YOU LOATHESOME, FILTHY, DEGRADED –"

The portrait of the shouting woman never got to finish because Remus Lupin and Sirius Black came hurling out of a doorway and began to pull her red velvet curtains closed with great force. Harry smiled as he watched Sirius and Lupin high five each other before turning to the newest guests. "Harry!" They exclaimed happily, both with bright happy smiles that Harry treasured. No one ever smiled at him like that and he cherished Sirius all the more for it.

"Sirius! Professor Lupin!" Harry stepped clear of the headmaster, ready for a hug from his godfather that Harry had missed desperately.

However, once Harry was clear of Professor Dumbledore and his swollen belly came into view everyone skidded to a halt. Even the pink haired girl who had been making her way to another hallway stopped and stared with eyes as wide as saucers. "What happened? What did those muggles do to you?" Sirius asked with murder in his eyes. He came rushing towards Harry and instinctively, Harry put his hands around his child protectively.

"Sirius – it's not what you think –" Harry tried to explain but he was cut off as Professor Dumbledore stepped forward. "I should think that a cup of tea is in order. Sirius would you gather Molly and Arthur please. Remus, would you be so kind as to call Madam Pomfrey from Hogwarts? Ah, Tonks, perhaps I could speak to you in private please."

Harry looked to his headmaster curiously, "Harry you're friends are upstairs. I'm sure they would love to catch up with you while we prepare for you." Harry nodded and slowly began climbing the stairs as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Professor – how is it possible – is he really?" he could hear Tonks whisper frightfully as Harry reached the top step.

He supposed his child was one of a kind in this world and that it would take some getting used to, but he didn't like how awful she had made his child seem or how she felt the need to whisper behind his back. But, Harry tried to tell himself, his best friends were somewhere up here and they would reassure him. "Ron?" Harry called quietly so as to not reawaken the awful portrait downstairs. "Hermione?"

Hermione's bushy head popped out so suddenly that Harry nearly leapt out of the air. "Hermione, Merlin you scared me."

She opened her mouth to respond but all words seemed to fail her as her eyes zeroed in on Harry's protruding stomach. With eyes the size of saucers she said, "Harry what on earth has happened?" She came out of the room fully with Ginny Weasley on her heels who skidded to a stop in the doorway. They both just stared.

"It's kind of a long story," Harry said with grin, "Where's Ron? He'll want to hear this too."

Ginny ran off almost at once to retrieve her brother without a word and returned only a few seconds later with Ron, Fred, and George in tow. The room went dead silent as all of his friends were staring at his stomach in bewilderment. As awkward as it was to be stared at, Harry realized with great relief that the anger and resentment he had harbored for his friends had all but died away. It didn't matter that they had been together all summer or that that they had purposefully kept him away – because they weren't his family, no matter how hard he had tried to make them. This baby was his family now and it was all he needed.

"Harry what's happened?" Hermione was the first to break the silence and Harry's thoughts. She looked ashen and scared, as if Harry's stomach would suddenly grow a fanged mouth and try to eat her.

Ron on the other hand, looked as if he were going to be sick. His face was green as he stared at Harry's stomach in horror. "Guys," Harry tried to bring their attention to him and away from his baby bump. "What do you know about other worlds?"

As always Hermione was the first speak up. "Do you mean like Jigger's Theory of the Multiverse? Karl Jigger proposed that there are infinite other worlds that lie in parallel with our own. He theorized that there could be hundreds – if not infinite – worlds that could technically seem to mirror our own or could be the exact opposite. Oh Harry, what's happened? Dumbledore left an Order meeting with hardly a word to anyone and now that you're back you're – well, are you pregnant?"

"Of course, he's not pregnant don't be stupid," Ginny spat lividly as she glared at Hermione. "It's obviously some kind of curse. Did you run into You-Know-Who?"

"Actually," Harry replied as he wrapped his arms around his baby, "Hermione was right. I am pregnant."

"But Harry," Hermione insisted as the twins high fived each other, "men _can't_ be pregnant. Not even in the wizarding world – they just don't have the reproductive parts."

"I really don't know how much of it I understand Hermione," said Harry with a queasy feeling that he wouldn't be able to satisfy her questions. He still didn't understand everything. "All I know is that yesterday I went into my bedroom and there was another me lying on the ground. He was cursed – it looked like someone had spilled ink all over his skin and he was very, very pregnant. He said that he and Voldemort were bonded and that someone had killed his Voldemort. Apparently he didn't want to leave their child an orphan and then there's this bright flash of white light. Next thing I know, I'm waking up and _I'm_ the one who's heavily pregnant and the other Harry is dead – his entire body taken over by the curse."

The five teens stared at Harry with open mouthed shock. It was Ginny who spoke first – her face had lost all color and there was terror in her brown eyes. "That's – that's – _his?"_

"I know," Harry tried to grasp her hand but she yanked it away so hard that Ginny fell over backwards. "Listen I know how it sounds but you have to remember – the baby is half me too. It's mine, my family – I'll raise it right don't worry. Hermione, Ron, you two can help smother it with love. It will need godparents, right?"


	3. The Ties That Bind Us

**DOGWOOD**

Nobody in Grimmauld Place had taken the news of Harry's pregnancy well and to be completely honest, Harry had expected backlash. After all, it was startling news. Even he still had trouble not being surprised when he looked down and found his stomach protruding. Still, Harry was now seated in a dusty, moth eaten tea room with Madam Pomfrey as the older nurse began to rummage through her medical bag, completely alone. Hermione had been polite when Harry had asked her to hold his hand during the exam, but she had made excuses about being forced to clean out the attic.

Ron, on the other hand, had looked at Harry as if he had asked for drugs or even dragon. "A baby Harry?" Ron had yelled as his face went scarlet, "You-Know-Who's baby!? I can't believe you want to bring that monster into the world! YOU'RE THE CHOSEN ONE – the only one who can stop this monster and you want to deliver his baby?!"

Needless to say, Harry hadn't known what to say to that. Because Ron was right, the entire wizarding world looked to Harry as if he could save them. But that didn't make it Harry's fault, did it? Harry grasped his stomach as he watched Madam Pomfrey set a few multi-colored vials on the small table she had conjured. "Um, Madam Pomfrey? What exactly are you going to do?"

The familiar weathered face smiled kindly at him and Harry felt himself relax a little. After all the glaring faces and hostility, her familiar sweet face was soothing to his nerves. "Don't worry dearie, none of this will hurt at all. Professor Dumbledore has informed me that you want to take care of this and I've prepared everything, all you need to do is lie back."

Harry's protective grip over the baby became tighter and he felt his stomach drop. "What do you mean take care of it?" All at once Harry got the feeling that what he meant by wanting to take care of this baby and what Professor Dumbledore meant were not on the same page.

Madam Pomfrey gave Harry a rather startled look, "To get rid of it of course – surely you must want –"

Harry leapt off the sofa and had his wand in his hand. He didn't care if he wasn't allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts, he raised his wand in warning. "No – no get back. This is _my_ child. I _am_ keeping it."

Madam Pomfrey's eyes went wide as she nearly dropped her bag. "Mr. Potter I know how hard this must be for you, but you have a madman trying to kill you – I hardly think now is the time for a child. Maybe in a few years - "

Harry was shaking as he stormed out of the decrepit tea room and slammed the door to the kitchen open with undisguised fury. "Maybe I wasn't clear enough," Harry felt rage coil along his spine as he watched the faces of Dumbledore and Sirius pale as Harry felt all of the small hairs on his body stand on end. "But this baby is mine. You all made it very clear that you didn't want me in your Order and now you want me to abort _my only family_ because you want me to what? Kill Voldemort?"

He was breathing so heavily that his chest began to ache but Harry couldn't stop, "I am _not_ your weapon. I am _not_ going to save the world. I _am_ going to raise this child and I had hoped _you_ would protect _me."_

It was Sirius who leaned forward first and the pain in his grey eyes made Harry's heart swell. "Harry I know how much family means to you, but don't you see? _We_ are your family – not this bastard child of a murderer. We tried to shield you from the Order, yes, but it was to protect you. _We_ love you. Our ties to you are much stronger than some…parasite."

"Did you ask my mum and dad to abort me?" Harry asked as he fought the stinging in his eyes. "Did you ask them to kill me to keep them safe?"

The rage that coiled around Harry's spine flashed wildly in Sirius' eyes. He stood up so fast that his chair went tumbling over and he hit the table in front of him with a loud _bang_. "This is different and you know it!" Spittle was flying from Sirius' mouth as he growled, deep and low.

"How is it different?" Harry seethed right back, seeing red. "They were in just as much danger I am in now and no one forced them to kill me."

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore stood with arms raised, trying to ease the tension in the room. "What Sirius is trying to say, what we all are trying to say, is that this baby is born of a man who cannot love – this baby wasn't born of the same tremendous love your parents had for you –"

"I will love this baby enough for two," Harry declared, glaring at Sirius as his heart broke. He had never seen Sirius so crazed and he had certainly never looked at Harry with this much contempt. Reaching deep into his pocket he pulled out the photograph and showed it to Sirius, "And don't tell me they didn't love each other."

Harry held the photograph so that Sirius and Dumbledore could see the other Harry and Voldemort dancing happily with the baby bump between them. "Does that not look like love?" Harry asked as he waved the picture in front of them, "Does that not look like a baby who is loved?"

"That monster killed Lily and James!" Sirius exploded as he leapt across the table. His face was only inches from Harry before Harry could even register that he had moved. Instinctively Harry flinched back. "He killed your parents!" Sirius roared in his face as Harry tried not to give in to the fear.

"And you want to kill my child!" Harry screamed right back as large tears he couldn't control began to blur his vision. His chin was wavering as he looked at Sirius' red face and crazed eyes – he looked so much like Uncle Vernon that Harry's natural instinct was to submit but he couldn't, not with his baby's life on the line. He saw it coming, he knew probably before Sirius even realized what he was doing. Sirius' hand came up and he backhanded Harry, who was sent spiraling into the wall.

With one hand cupping his face and the other wrapped around his belly, Harry looked up at the only family he had ever had. He realized then that Sirius was no better than the muggles he had just left and the realization broke his heart. All those promises of family and love were shattering before his eyes.

He couldn't stay here, Harry realized as Dumbledore merely looked on with a mournful gaze. " _Auferte_ ," Harry only had just enough time to leap to his right as he recognized Ron's voice behind him.

"What are you doing?" Harry cried in alarm as he spun to face Ron. He was so surprised to see Hermione behind his best friend that he didn't realize Sirius had moved behind him. Suddenly Harry's arms were being pulled behind his back and he screamed, "NO!" as he struggled to break free.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" Harry screamed hysterically, "IT'S MY BABY! PLEASE HERMIONE HELP ME!"

Hermione raised her wand as she bit her lip nervously. She took a moment to steel herself and Harry felt his body go cold as she said, " _Auferte Existimaret."_

The violet spell came racing towards Harry and he used Sirius' hold on him to use his legs to push against the wall. The two turned and the spell slammed into Sirius' back. Sirius screamed as Harry tore free and raced to the other entrance to the kitchen that lead into the hall but before Harry could clear the room, Dumbledore was in front of him.

"Don't make me fight you Harry," Dumbledore pleaded with him as he held up his hands. "I don't want to fight you, we are on the _same_ side. Everything I do is to keep you safe."

"To what end?" Harry spat as the blood from his lips began to pool in his mouth. "To be your weapon?"

"I care for you," Dumbledore's blue eyes began to tear and Harry felt the pieces of his heart break into even tinier pieces. "Sometimes doing what is right is the hardest thing we will ever have to do. This – this fetus is affecting you. You are not thinking straight, please let us help you."

The tears were now streaming down Harry's stinging cheek. His head throbbed so badly that he could hardly see straight. "I don't need you – ANY OF YOU!" Harry yelled as he looked at Ron and Hermione who were holding each other in fear. He saw Hermione's tears and the grim confidence in Ron's jaw.

Sirius was bleeding on the floor, unconscious but twitching in a pool of his own blood. Harry looked back to Dumbledore and tried to stave off the quivering of his lips, "If you loved me, you'd see – this baby – it doesn't matter who the other father is, it's a part of me."

"I am so very sorry my boy," Dumbledore sighed as he wiped away a tear. "But this fetus must be destroyed lest Voldemort learns of it and redoubles his efforts to come after you – come after us all. This thing must not be allowed to live."

With that Dumbledore raised his wand and Harry felt true terror wash over him. His wand arm shook as he raised it to his headmaster. "I won't let you kill my child," Harry warned but his voice shook as badly as his hands. "I love it and I won't let you harm it. I'll die first."

Dumbledore hesitated at Harry's words and Harry, who couldn't imagine trying to fight Albus Dumbledore when he could barely stand, leapt towards Ron and Hermione – who screeched in fear as Harry came hurling towards them. "Bombarda," Harry yelled as the blasting curse blew them into the wall. As he ran, Ron and Hermione slumped on the ground.

"HARRY POTTER!" Dumbledore yelled as Harry made his way into the hall.

Harry sent another blasting curse towards the screaming portrait who at once began to shout, "FILTHY BLOODTRAITORS! ALL OF YOU WILL DIE AT THE HAND OF THE DARK LORD! BESMIRCHING MY HOME! MY FAMILY! MY NAME!"

Harry ran faster than he had ever run before. Up the stairs, past a startled Ginny who backed away from him and tried to blend into the wall. Harry rushed into the room he had been assigned to share with Ron and slammed the door. He didn't know many locking charms but he had seen Voldemort warding night after night in his dreams.

Harry turned to the door, his heart racing, and tried to repeat what he had seen Voldemort do. " _Hoste Protégé,"_ Harry tried to remember the complex wand movements he had watched Voldemort perform with fluid grace. " _Hostes Transire,"_ Harry's hands were shaking as he tried to complete the web that was forming over the door.

A loud _BOOM_ startled Harry and he jumped back, relieved that the door held but knowing he didn't have much time. Quickly Harry retrieved his broom and attached his trunk to the end. " _Aberto,"_ Harry cried as he pointed his wand at the window. The window opened with so much force that the glass shattered and Harry mounted his broom.

Another _BOOM_ came from the other side of the door and Harry watched as the wood bent unnaturally before slamming back into place. Knowing he didn't have much time, Harry bent as low as he could and raced through the window.

Under the cover of the night's sky, Harry was hidden from both curious muggle eyes and searching Order members. He flew as high as he could, not knowing exactly where he was going. Where could he go? He couldn't return to Private Drive in his condition nor could he rent a room in Diagon Alley. Any place familiar to him would be searched and Harry knew that if he were captured again, his baby wouldn't survive.

His baby. Harry protectively cradled one hand around his rotund abdomen as a sob escaped his lips. He was out of his depth. He had no idea how to survive on the run nor did he know if Dumbledore had a way of tracking him. He badly needed to sleep, exhaustion was being held at bay by adrenaline but unless something else happened the adrenaline would fade and then Harry would be even more vulnerable.

For hours he flew, not knowing where to go and the adrenaline slowly fading. His hands still shook and Harry could hardly keep his grip on his broom. But just as Harry felt as if he might fall off his broom in sheer exhaustion, he felt as if dozens of butterflies had been released him stomach. Harry lurched to a stop and both his hands went to his belly. Was something wrong?

Was the baby injured? Harry had no idea how to tell if something was wrong and he could feel his heart thundering in his chest as he tried to think of someone, anyone who would possibly know. But the only person he could think of, that wasn't currently trying to kill his child, was the most likely person to kill _him._

He did know that Little Hangleton, where Voldemort had been hiding out all summer, was in Yorkshire. What he didn't know was where or how far it was from Nottingham, where Harry was currently flying over. The temperature up high was beginning to soak through his unprotected muggle clothes, which were already wet with condensation.

After two hours, Harry began to give up on ever finding Little Hangleton. He was worn rugged. His energy was zapped, his clothes were wet and cold, his stomach felt queasy, and the adrenaline had faded and left his head throbbing painfully. Just as he was about to give up, Harry saw Riddle Manor standing on a hill, overlooking Little Hangleton. Harry nearly cried in relief as he saw the town squished between to giant hills.

There was no more adrenaline left for his body to make, it seemed. As Harry began to descend in the yard of Riddle Manor, his body was shaking so hard that he nearly fell onto the ground as he tried to stop. Harry's legs could barely hold him as he left his broom and trunk on the yard, unable to drag them with him. Knowing he was going to lose consciousness soon, Harry summoned what little courage he had left and wrapped an arm around his abdomen.

"This is it," he told the baby in a shaky whisper, "are you ready to meet your father?"

There was no response and Harry felt terror seize him. Had his baby died inside of him? Had those fluttering movements been his child dying? The terror propelled Harry forward and he pushed open the door with a loud _creak._

Inside was as decrepit and dreary as the outside. Harry could tell that it had once been a lavish home. The grandiose staircase was missing a few steps and the windows had been boarded up. A thick layer of dust covered everything and there was litter and leaves on the floors. Harry couldn't see or detect anyone other than himself in the house but he could _feel_ Voldemort. He was close.

"Harry Potter," came a surprised, angry voice from behind Harry. Harry was too exhausted and hurt to be surprised. He turned slowly, using the last of his strength to meet Voldemort's crimson eyes.

"Lord Voldemort," Harry's own voice was hardly a whisper and yet it seemed to echo off the decrepit walls. The relief he felt was instantaneous and Harry felt his legs collapse underneath him. He was here now, there was nothing more he could do. Harry had expected to hit the floor with a painful smack, but the last thing he felt was strong arms catching him as the world went black.


	4. A Heroes Gamble

**DOGWOOD**

When Harry felt his consciousness gradually becoming more aware; he felt the comforting fluffiness of down pillows, the warmth of a crackling fire, and the soothing weight of a heavy comforter. His body snuggled deeper into the blankets as he tried to slip back into oblivion but it only took the feel of his large, swollen belly to sharpen his mind. His consciousness sliced through the comforting haziness like a warm knife through butter and Harry bolted upright.

Much to his confusion Harry found that as the blanket fell to his hips, that he was completely naked. Harry tried not to focus on his nudity and as he pulled the blanket up to cover himself, he looked around the room he was in. The room wasn't decrepit and rundown as the rest of the house Harry had seen was. The carpets had been repaired and the dust had been cleaned. There was a large fire crackling in the hearth and Harry held his breath as he realized that Voldemort's large black velvet chair was by the fire.

Harry also noticed that his wand and clothes were gone.

Before Harry could move off the bed the door swung open and revealed Lord Voldemort, dressed in black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up his pale, strong forearms, and tucked into well-fitting black slacks. "You're awake," he said as he used his hand to move the chair Harry had seen him read in countless times over the past few months, to the side of Harry's bed.

"I'm not dead," Harry realized in surprise. He had honestly not known if he were going to wake up and he definitely hadn't expected to wake up in a bed or near a fire.

"Not yet anyway," Lord Voldemort sat down in his chair and crossed his leg over the other. His arms, elbows resting on the chair, came up to create a point as he pressed his fingertips together, where he rested his chin as he regarded Harry thoughtfully. "Though it was a close call. You suffered from a mild case of hypothermia."

"No," Harry said with an airy, almost hysterical laugh. "I mean you didn't just kill me as soon as I dropped."

Voldemort's crimson eyes watched him, scrutinized every movement and every word that Harry made. "You are a puzzle, Harry Potter. You show up unannounced, with no army at your back, half dead, and then collapse on my floor." He paused, still watching as Harry wrapped his arms around his baby bump underneath the blankets. "Not to mention, as impossible as it is, carrying a child."

Harry's eyes snapped up to Voldemort's and he clutched his belly tighter. "I – I – " he stopped, not knowing how to explain any of the nightmare the last few days had been. All he could think about was Sirius' furious shouting and Dumbledore's tear-filled eyes as they tried to abort his baby.

"I need protection," Harry admitted quietly and, unable to hold Voldemort's gaze, he dropped his eyes to the emerald comforter. His fingers traced the silver embroidery as he waited.

"I do not believe I have ever had a mortal enemy come to me for protection," Voldemort hummed thoughtfully and Harry realized that the Dark Lord was acting more sane than Harry had ever seen him. Much more sane than Harry had thought him capable of. "Especially not one whom I've tried to kill for more than a decade. What makes you think I won't kill you now?"

Harry tried to swallow but his mouth was bone dry and his hands began to shake as he ran his fingers over his bruised abdomen. His head began to throb again and he realized that his split lip had only scabbed over, not been healed. "I –" Harry tried to say but his words caught in his throat. "I – the baby –"

Voldemort scoffed, "As much as I loathe the slaughter of children I have been known to kill a few."

"Tried to," Harry murmured without thinking before his eyes snapped up to Voldemort's in shock. Crimson eyes had hardened in anger but he had not reached for his wand and Harry quickly backtracked. "No, that's not what I meant." Harry sighed in frustration. "The baby – it's yours too. That's why I need protection. Dumbledore wants to kill it – they all do – even Sirius –"

Harry felt tears begin to well again as he heard Voldemort suck in a harsh breath. "I know," Harry nearly sobbed, "I know what you're going to say but please – just listen."

When Voldemort nodded tersely, Harry continued. "I don't know how, but a me from some other world or universe or whatever showed up in my bedroom. He was cursed – badly cursed – it was like this black inky looking stuff that was covering his skin. It kept slowly covering him and he said –"

Harry paused, chancing a glance at Voldemort who was watching him with sharp, calculating eyes. "He said that Voldemort was dead and the he didn't want the child raised as an orphan. He – he said that we were bonded – or they were – I'm not sure but he said that we had a piece of your soul in our scar and he called you our bonded."

Could Voldemort hear how loudly Harry's heart was thundering in his chest? It was almost hard to breathe but Harry forced himself to take several deep breaths. "He said his name was Harry James Potter-Riddle, the Dark Lord's consort."

It was almost as if Voldemort had stopped breathing. Harry tried to guess what he was thinking but Voldemort had gone as still as a statue, staring at Harry's scar with wide crimson eyes. "He – the other me – he begged me to take the baby. That it couldn't be raised an orphan and – I – " Harry paused as he wiped away a tear. "I couldn't say no. Not when I knew what it was like to grow up without parents."

Harry's hands picked at the stitching on the comforter nervously as he continued, "I thought – well I thought I could raise it on my own, you know? That it didn't matter if you were the other half of this baby, because it was still half of me. I – I've always wanted a family. I never thought it would happen like this," Harry laughed breathlessly, "but when Madam Pomfrey tried to abort it – I realized that Dumbledore wanted it dead. He said you couldn't love – that you'd try to kill it too…but I – I didn't have anywhere to go. I can't hide from the Order and you, so I thought, ya know, the enemy of my enemy is my friend?"

For a long moment there was nothing but the sound of the fire crackling. Harry fidgeted nervously as he chanced a glance at Voldemort. "The Order?" He asked in a quiet, dangerous whisper.

Harry nodded, "Yeah Dumbledore has made some Order of the Phoenix or something. I wasn't there long so I don't know much."

Voldemort stared at Harry in contemplation for so long that Harry looked away and down at the bruises on baby bump. There were fresh ones now, deep purple and Harry felt another tear fall. "Do you – have any proof of what you say has happened?"

Harry's head snapped up and it took a moment for him to remember. "Do you still have my clothes? There's a photograph the other Harry gave me."

With a wave of his wand, Dudley's hand-me-downs appeared on Harry's lap. Hands shaking, he reached in the pocket and pulled out the picture. Harry and Voldemort were still twirling happily and Harry couldn't help the small smile when the other Harry was dipped low, revealing a smile so happy it had to have come from another world. With shaking hands, Harry handed the photograph over.

Voldemort stared at it for so long that Harry knew the photo had repeated itself at least half a dozen times. When he spoke, his voice was clouded in emotion that Harry couldn't identify. "You are having my baby."

"I hope so," Harry replied and Voldemort's gaze sharpened as he looked to Harry. "I just mean, that so much has happened – I came here hoping you could…I don't know, check it out? Make sure everything's okay? I felt something strange last night and I know absolutely nothing about normal pregnancy let alone some kind of magical pregnancy that everyone keeps saying is impossible. Is this really not common in the wizarding world?"

"No," Voldemort replied, his voice thick with emotion. "No this has never happened before. This magic doesn't exist."

Harry swallowed loudly and wrapped his arms around his protruding belly. "How will it survive?" Harry cried softly, "How do I take care of it if no one has ever seen this before?" Furiously, he wiped away the tears and gave Voldemort a pleading look. "I know you want to kill me – but – but please just help me save the baby. It's the only family I have."

Voldemort looked at Harry with surprise burning bright in his crimson eyes. "You would stay here, knowing your own life could be in danger, for my child?"

" _Our_ child," Harry snapped at him ferociously.

"Of course, I meant – You would put yourself at risk, for a child that is also of my blood." Voldemort seemed greatly confused by this and he looked at Harry, searching for any hint of deceit or treachery.

"Like I said," Harry responded with less ferocity, "it's the only family I have. I may have never imagined it happening like this – but, I will protect it with my life. If that means that I have to go to you for protect it from Dumbledore and his new Order, then that's what I'll do."

Not finding any deceit in Harry's declaration, Voldemort nodded once. "I will find the best Healer I can," he promised Harry seriously. Stunned, Harry felt another tear well up and fall down his bruised cheek. "But, if we are to raise a child we need to discuss what this means for the war. I will not stop the war that is coming."

Harry felt something akin to warmth explode throughout his entire body. He smiled shakily, stunned that Voldemort had used 'we'. "They tried to kill our child," he snarled harshly, "burn the world to the ground for all I care."

Voldemort gave a roar of laughter at Harry's declaration, "I'm afraid I do not plan to burn the world down. But I do need something from you," he paused and Harry felt himself relax, at last the other boot had dropped, "your blood oath that you are no longer fighting against me in the war."

Harry felt his mouth drop open in surprise, "That's all?"

"What do you mean that's all?" Voldemort asked incredulously. "Harry I am asking you to swear on your life that you won't take whatever you learn here and use it against me in the future. We would be actively declaring the Prophecy null and void, you would no longer be 'Chosen One'."

For a moment, all Harry could do was stare in bewilderment. Then he laughed, hysterically, until he had to wipe away more tears. "It's all I've ever wanted," He tried to say through the laughter that just kept bubbling up inside of him, "I've never wanted to be Dumbledore's weapon against you."

Voldemort looked bewildered at Harry's tears and mad laughter, but even more so at his words. "So your saying," Harry asked as he began to calm down, "that I have to swear not to fight against you in the war and you'll protect us? That's it? You don't want me to like spy on Dumbledore or fight in the war or anything?"

"You are pregnant with my child," Voldemort paused when he saw Harry's scowl, "Our child," he corrected himself, "I would have you nowhere near a fight. But I won't just protect you, I will care for you. In exchange for your oath of neutrality, I will offer you the world's best Healers, a suitable home in which we can raise our child, and anything you need to not only survive – but to be happy here."

The silence hung thick in the air as Harry tried to comprehend what Voldemort was saying, "How do I do this blood oath?"

Voldemort grasped his wand in one hand and held out his other. Harry laid his hand in Voldemort's cool palm and watched as Voldemort pressed the tip of his wand to his palm. Without a word Harry's skin was sliced open as Voldemort drug his wand across. When he was done and Harry was bleeding quite a bit, he did the same to his own palm.

Voldemort grabbed Harry's hand and pressed the wounds together. "Do you, Harry James Potter swear that this is not ploy to spy on me for Albus Dumbledore or the Order of the Phoenix?"

Harry's eyes widened and he said, "I swear."

"Do you swear never to use what you learn here to help defeat me in the war to come?" Voldemort's tone was deceivingly soft as he asked but his eyes told Harry that he was prepared for the outcome that Harry had been lying.

"I swear." Harry replied breathlessly.

"Do you swear to never resume your mantle of Chosen One or to fight against me openly in the war to come?"

"I swear."

Voldemort's sharp eyes softened minutely as he dropped his wand in his lap and grasped the back of Harry's injured hand, holding it in between his own. "I, Tom Marvolo Riddle – swear to you that I will protect you and our child to the best of my ability."

Harry gasped with wide eyes but Voldemort continued as he squeezed Harry's hand, "I swear to you that I will provide for you and the baby the best I can, so long as I shall live."

Harry's heart was hammering in his chest as he stared in surprise. "And I swear to you," Voldemort paused and captured Harry's surprised gaze, "that I will do everything in my power to ensure you and the baby's happiness."

A bright flash of gold light nearly blinded Harry and he felt the thrum of magic take hold in the deepest part of himself. When it disappeared Harry gaped at the thin silvery scar and then to Voldemort, "Why?" He asked in hardly a whisper.

"You are giving me a family and a war, Harry," Voldemort explained gravely, still grasping Harry's hand between his own, "Despite the fact that we have a life of hatred and bloodshed between us, despite the fact that there is a prophecy naming us mortal enemies…despite the fact that I took your family away from you. You, my unintentional horcrux, carry a bit of my soul within you and now you carry my heir – you bind me to this earth physically and emotionally."

Large fat tears were rolling down Harry's cheeks. Voldemort squeezed his hand before letting it go and standing. "Now, for yours and the baby's sake, sleep. I will start looking for healers immediately, but until then I need you to rest. I imagine the last few days have been harmful to our child's health – you both need to rest until I can find someone to ensure your health."

Harry nodded, his eyes now puffy from crying, already felt heavy. Harry laid back on his side and ran a finger over his bruised belly as he closed his eyes. "Were going to be okay," Harry whispered to his child, not knowing Voldemort was still standing in the doorway. "Your father will take care of us, no one will harm you."


	5. Crystal Blue Eyes and Red Lipstick

**DOGWOOD**

The fire was still crackling away warmly when Harry woke again. He had no idea how much time had passed but the sun was low in the sky and Voldemort's chair had been moved back to its original spot by the fire. Someone had left a plate of steaming food and a glass of water next to the bed and Harry was surprised to find that the photograph of the other Harry and Voldemort dancing had been framed in a beautifully carved metal picture frame. Next to the photo, was Harry's wand.

Upon further inspection, Harry found his trunk underneath the boarded window and his Firebolt was propped against armoire. Ravenous, Harry dug into the hot meal with gusto. There were sliced meats, potatoes, glazed carrots, and buttered biscuits. Harry was so absorbed in his food that he nearly fell off the bed when he heard someone hiss, _'Smells good.'_

The food he had dropped piled itself back on the plate and returned to the nightstand next to his wand. Searching, Harry found Nagini curled up on the far corner of the bed, her massive head rising into the air as she smelled the food. Harry's heart nearly stopped in his chest. Very slowly Harry picked up a large cut of meat and held it out for her.

Nagini slithered closer as her massive body – nearly as thick as Harry's thigh – unfurled fluidly. _'So kind,'_ she hissed as she gently took the meat from Harry and swallowed it whole. _'You smell like a snakeling.'_

 _'_ _Nagini!'_ Harry whipped his head around and found Voldemort standing in the doorway with two people Harry couldn't make out very well behind him.

 _'_ _No, no it's okay she just startled me a little, she's fine.'_ Harry hissed back, not wanting to get Nagini in trouble.

Nagini reared back as if she had been hit and Voldemort looked at Harry in astonishment. _'Harry,'_ Voldemort hissed with an excited gleam in his eyes, _'You can understand me?'_

 _'_ _Of course I can,'_ Harry replied a little smugly. _'You didn't know? I thought Lucius Malfoy would have told you by now.'_

 _'_ _We will discuss this later,'_ Voldemort replied, none too happy that a member of his inner circle would keep such information from him. "Right now I've brought Healers to examine you, but first I would like you to meet them and see if you approve."

Blinking owlishly, Harry realized that he had never been in the position to approve or disapprove of anyone. "Um okay, do you have a shirt or something…I'm still starkers."

Voldemort went to the armoire while the two Healers behind him filed in the room and stood rigidly, awaiting Voldemort's orders. He threw a white undershirt and a pair of boxers to Harry, who made short work of slipping on the articles. "Thanks, so who are these guys?"

"Healers Rosier and Fawley," Voldemort answered as he examined the plate. "Are you sure you've eaten enough?"

"I'm sure, it's best not to eat too much right off the bat or I get sick." Harry rested his back against the headboard of the bed.

"Because of the pregnancy?" One of the Healers asked. She had hair as red as blood pulled up elegantly and matching lipstick. "I'm sorry, My Lord, for interrupting." She bowed her head but Voldemort waved her off.

"No, no, ask your questions you'll need to be just as informed as I am if you are to care for Harry and our child." Almost at once her head raised and a calculating gleam entered her eyes as she examined Harry from afar. "Harry, this is Healer Rosier, she specializes unusual pregnancies. The one beside her," Voldemort gestured to woman beside Healer Rosier, "is Healer Fawley who specialties include both general trauma and dark magical trauma."

"It's nice to meet you both," Harry greeted them as he removed the comforter from his body. Almost immediately Healer Fawley's heavily lined crystal blue eyes zeroed in on the scar on his forearm. "Please come closer, don't just stand by the door."

Both Healers looked to Voldemort before stepping closer. "Harry," Healer Fawley asked quietly, "When you say you can't eat too much _at first,_ you don't mean because of morning sickness do you?"

With a frown Harry shook his head, "No, I haven't experienced any morning sickness so far. The only time I have gotten sick is when I was Apparated."

Healer Fawley's frown deepened and she nodded understandingly. "I'm afraid I don't understand," Healer Rosier said as she came closer, "If not the pregnancy –"

"Malnutrition and starvation," Healer Fawley cut her off and Harry looked down, not wanting to see the reactions.

"Harry," Healer Fawley softly lifted Harry's chin and gave Harry a warm smile, "go ahead and lie down for me, okay? I'm going to have to run some very invasive tests and ask you personal questions, but it's only to make sure _you_ are healthy enough to carry such an unusual pregnancy, okay?"

Harry nodded and scooted further down into the bed so that he was lying flat on his back. "Now, this is going to look very weird but you won't feel a thing okay? Just enjoy the light show."

Harry looked over to Voldemort as Healer Fawley raised her wand. Healer Rosier was standing next to Voldemort and she was whispering so quietly to him that Harry couldn't hear anything other than a soft chanting from Healer Fawley. Turning back, Harry found a web of blue light hovering a few inches over his body. He watched as the web grew and expanded until it covered Harry's body exactly and then it dropped, so that it looked as if Harry had been covered in a web of tattoos.

Healer Fawley began another soft chant, slow and comforting, as her wand danced fluidly in the air. Slowly, red lights began to appear in junctions of web where Harry realized his body had been hurt at some point. He knew some of them; like where he had been stabbed with a basilisk fang or been hurt in Quidditch. But there were dozens more that Harry couldn't remember. The red lights appeared all over his body and Healer Fawley stopped her chanting.

"Oh," she whispered quietly with wide eyes as the web itself began to turn crimson. "Oh dear."

As if it pained her, Healer Fawley lifted her wand once again and began another chant. This time Harry watched as blue lights began to appear. One light appeared right between Harry's eyes and he went cross eyed as he tried to look at it. Then more appeared, over his rib cage and his arms.

This time Healer Fawley didn't stop, she began a new chant that produced green balls of light over his whole body until Harry was surrounded in a green glow. "I see," she spoke tersely and closed her eyes.

Harry watched the Healer take a long, slow, deep breath and asked, "That bad?"

When she didn't respond for a minute, Voldemort stepped forward. "Healer Fawley."

"My Lord?" she replied, still not opening her eyes.

"Is there a problem?" Voldemort's chilly voice was razor sharp and Harry watched as she pulled her lips between her teeth and bit down so hard that her skin around her mouth went white.

After a deep breath through her nose, Healer Fawley released her lips and replied, "No my Lord." Her eyes opened and Harry realized with a heavy heart that her eyes were wet. She waved her wand and the lights disappeared as a thick roll of parchment appeared in her hand.

"Well?" Harry asked, knowing it wasn't going to be good but needing to know if he was strong enough to carry the baby. "How bad?"

Healer Fawley sat down next to Harry and looked him in the eye. "Harry I am going to do everything in my power to heal you, I promise you."

Harry looked down and scratched at the back of his neck, "That bad, huh?"

"I'm afraid so," she replied softly. "You – I don't even know where to start really. Right now, you have a mild concussion, superficial injuries, and a cracked rib. However, you also have untreated fractures in four other bones, you are badly malnourished – leaving your bones and your eyesight weak, and your right arm is badly scarred and has never been healed properly."

"That's all?" Harry tried to joke and found Voldemort with madness raging in his eyes. Harry could feel Voldemort's rage in the pit of his stomach as his scar began to sting.

"No, I'm afraid that's the good news." Healer Fawley replied with a grimace. Harry felt his stomach lurch as his scar threatened to split open.

"Calm down please," Harry requested as he clapped a hand to his forehead. "Merlin, you're making my head split open."

Almost at once Harry's scar stopped throbbing and was replaced with a dull ache. Harry looked up to see Voldemort staring at him in wonder. "My apologies, Harry. I didn't realize my emotions were enough to cause such pain."

"Alright doc," Harry tried to joke again but even he could hear the flatness in his tone, "What's the bad news?"

"You have Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears in your blood."

Harry let out a sigh of relief, "Oh I know that. I thought you were going tell me I had cancer or something." Harry laughed for a second but stopped when he felt three pairs of eyes staring at him incredulously.

"What do you mean you know?" Healer Fawley jumped back, scandalized by Harry's nonchalance.

"Well when I killed the Basilisk –"

"You killed the Basilisk!?" Voldemort eyes flashed and Harry didn't know whether he was angry or surprised.

"Yeah when I was twelve," Harry shrugged, "It bit me though, but Fawkes – Dumbledore's Phoenix cried into the wound and then I was fine."

"Mr. Potter," Healer Fawley cried, "you are most certainly not fine. You may be living and breathing but the venom and the tears are warring even now in your blood! It could very well be inside your baby!"

Harry felt his face pale and he cupped his stomach protectively, "My baby?" he asked in fearful whisper.

Healer Fawley stood and stepped back as Healer Rosier took her seat. "Hey," she soothed Harry who had begun to hyperventilate, "Hey now, why don't you lift your shirt and let me have a look, hmm? Let me get look at your little miracle baby."

She lifted Harry's shirt and rested it on the top of the baby bump. "Did you know you are the first father to carry their child in recorded history?" she asked as she laid Harry back.

"I – I mean yeah they told me this isn't normal," Harry replied as he tried to slow his breathing.

"Ha! Not normal," Healer Rosier laughed and smiled at Harry. "You have a medical discovery inside of you Harry!" Her smile and warmth immediately calmed Harry and he felt a smile begin to curve his lips. "I am going to deliver you a magical baby Harry," she told him as her warm hands began to press firmly on his abdomen, "and in the process we are going to learn so much!"

Healer Rosier grabbed her wand and looked at Harry she continued to speak, "Can you imagine a world where marriage contracts are no longer needed? You and your little medical miracle are going to change the world. We are going to help wizards everywhere who are forced to marry a witch to continue the family line."

Harry's smile grew brighter as she spoke and he couldn't help but ask, "Really?"

"Oh yes," she cried happily as lights and puffs of smoke kept popping out of her wand. "This baby is going to redefine our world. We are going to learn so much from you and your precious little one. Imagine it – a few years from now any wizard will be able to carry his husband's child and it's all thanks to you!"

Harry returned her bright smile with one of his own. "Well," Healer Rosier lowered Harry's shirt back down. "I'm done here."

"Already?" Harry gasped at the same time Voldemort demanded, "And the baby?"

"Not to worry dear," Healer Rosier smoothed out Harry's untamable hair, "It looks as if the placenta hasn't quite bonded with it's new host, but we don't have much time before it does. Right now the baby is surviving off its former host's blood – quite fascinating really because it would mean that the constructed placenta stores blood in case of trauma to the father, I mean the whole concept is genius! –"

"Healer Rosier!" Voldemort snapped at her and she blushed before looking back to Harry.

"It means that whoever designed this placenta took into consideration the chance that you might be poisoned and went to great lengths to ensure that it would not immediately poison the child." She gave Harry a bright smile, "It also means that we need to get the venom out of you before the little rascal starts to depend on your blood."

Healer Rosier turned to Healer Fawley, "You can handle the venom?"

"Of course," Healer Fawley assured them, "I'll need a healing bay though."

"I will take care of healing bay," Voldemort assured the Healers as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Harry watched as Voldemort took a deep breath and he could practically see the planning happening. Harry frowned as he realized that Voldemort probably had a lot on his plate and was most likely under a mountain of stress.

"We need a Death Eater," Harry realized aloud and then blushed when everyone turned to him. Scarlet eyes were analyzing him and Harry ducked his head. "I mean, we need someone to help you take care of all this – someone you trust so that you aren't overwhelmed and stressed out."

"You mean like an assistant?" Voldemort's thin lips quirked into a ghost of a smile.

"Exactly," Harry smiled brightly, "If I see you stressing out it will stress me out and stress is awful for the baby."

"I'll consider it," Voldemort promised, "In the meantime how much time do we have before the venom makes its way into the baby's system?"

Healer Fawley looked to Healer Rosier, who sighed. "I'm not exactly sure another day at most? Possibly as little as twelve hours? Whoever designed this was eons beyond anything I've ever seen. I feel like a druid whose trying to study post-modern third-wave conjuration. I know the _what_ but not the how or the why."

"Right," Voldemort nodded, "Thank you two for your time I will collect you when the healing bay is ready."

The two Healers disappeared in plumes of black smoke.


	6. Hazy With a Side of Beat

**DOGWOOD**

When the healers were gone Harry looked to Voldemort and couldn't stop the large fat tears welling in his eyes. It seemed that was all he could do lately, cry and sleep. He hated it but he couldn't stop it. "I'm sorry," he whispered as the tears fell, "I didn't know – I swear I didn't realize –"

Nagini slithered towards Harry from her spot at the corner of the bed. Her long graceful body curled around Harry as she rubbed her head against Harry's cheek. "It's not your fault," Voldemort sighed as he sat next to Harry on the bed and watched as Nagini tried to comfort him. "I don't have all the facts yet and I can't plan for something I don't know to watch out for.

"How in Salazar Slytherin's name did you manage to even _find_ the Basilisk? I left her in sleeping in stasis," Voldemort heaved a great sigh and Harry realized that he was genuinely upset that it was dead.

"Um, so you don't know anything that happened in my second year?" Harry questioned hesitantly, unsure if he really wanted to tell Voldemort.

"Merlin's beard, you were twelve…" Harry gave Voldemort a slight smile.

"Impressive huh?"

"Meddlesome, powerful, and irritating?" Voldemort quipped back as he ran his hand over Harry's rotund stomach. "I guess I should expect no less from the man carrying my soul and my heir."

"Lucius Malfoy slipped Ginny Weasley your diary," Harry confessed quietly as he tried to ease the tension in Voldemort by threading his fingers though Voldemort's and running them over his belly. "It possessed her and opened the Chamber of Secrets."

The growl Voldemort released echoed off the walls and Harry felt the dizzying rage bleeding through their connection. Realizing that Harry himself had tensed up, Voldemort took a deep breath. "Miss Weasley is still alive…and the Basilisk is dead…I can only presume that diary has been destroyed."

Harry bowed his head, for the first time feeling ashamed. "Was it another soul piece? Another Horcrux?"

When Voldemort nodded Harry felt more cursed tears well in his eyes. "I destroyed a piece of your soul." He had been so proud of that day, saving Ginny and the school…he had no idea that the diary had been housing an actual piece of live soul. Then again, it probably wouldn't have mattered because as much as Harry hated to admit it now, back then it would have only made him stab it again.

"Don't worry," Voldemort took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for a physical blow, "You didn't destroy the soul piece, you only destroyed the container. I'll start organizing the ritual to call the soul shard back to me."

"You can do that?" Harry asked in amazement, feeling better.

"It is an extremely taxing task, but yes, I can do it."

"I've really dumped a lot on your plate in the past twenty-four hours, huh?" Harry asked with a sigh of his own. "I'm sorry, I mean – I'm not sorry that you know, you're keeping the baby safe, but I'm just – ya'know sorry for piling so much on you at once. You've only been back a few months."

"Thirty-nine days," Voldemort corrected with chilling accuracy. Harry couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine. "I do wish I had had the time to find a proper home but it seems we will have to make do with this place for now, at least until I can find somewhere else and set up a healing bay."

"Can I use magic here?" Harry asked, getting an idea that lifted his mood. "Like without getting a letter from the Ministry?"

"Not usually," Voldemort answered as he brushed his fingertips over Harry's stomach, "But I took your wand while you were asleep and doused the trace. I can't have the Ministry sending officials here yet, I haven't called my Death Eaters to me since my rebirth. I'm still just trying to get used to having a body again."

"Then put looking for a new home on the to-do-in-the-future-when-you-have-time list." Harry smiled, "I'll take care of whipping this place into shape while you go see about whatever a healing bay needs."

After Voldemort had left the house under heavy glamours, Harry began digging through his old text books in his trunk. His old charms textbook from third year held two chapters on cleaning charms alone and Harry found even more in his fourth year book. So Harry rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and began to explore the house.

The only habitable places had been Voldemort's room and the bathroom across the hall. It seemed this was only supposed to be a place to crash until he found somewhere better – but Harry found charm in the rundown home. It was big, with two wings, five bedrooms, and four and half bathrooms. The ceilings were lofty and Harry absolutely loved the hand-carved wood bannisters.

Downstairs, Harry found that the electricity still worked and the plumbing was good. The rest, he thought to himself as he plugged in an old radio, he could do himself. So Harry set to work in the foyer first, knowing that at least the Healers would be popping in and out. He didn't want them to think they lived like urchins.

Harry sang along to the muggle music as he practiced charms he had thought he'd never use. Cleaning with magic, Harry thought as he banished the thick coats of dust with a flick of his wand, was much easier than cleaning the muggle way. If only he could have used magic on Private Drive – even Petunia would have been grudgingly impressed.

Once the dust was gone, Harry found brooms in a cupboard and smiled wickedly as he charmed them to sweep out all the litter and debris that had accumulated over the many years. He pulled the boards off the window and chucked them outside as he charmed rags to start cleaning the grime. Feather dusters were put to work all over the house as Harry made his way from room to room, removing boards and tasking the rags to clean.

Once all the cleaning supplies Harry could find were assigned, he began to realize that it was a very _muggle_ home. Something which any witch or wizard would notice. Harry stepped around the wood polisher that was working in the foyer as he eyed the banister. " _Nagini,"_ Harry called loudly up the stairs.

A minute later, Nagini was slithering down the stairs. _"Snakeling,"_ she hissed as she reared back. The wood polisher had nearly run her over. _"What are you doing?"_

 _"_ _Nesting,"_ Harry replied with a mischievous grin, _"Now be still, I need to use you for reference."_

Nagini obeyed and Harry began the task of transfiguring the smooth wood rails into giant carved snakes. _"Why are you making snakes?"_ Nagini asked as Harry moved on the other side. She was examining the giant snake's head, hissing at it to show her fangs as the carving was.

 _"_ _Well this is a muggle house,"_ Harry explained as he transfigured the other bannister. _"And Voldemort can't be seen living in a muggle house."_

As soon as the rags had finished with the chandelier Harry began transfiguring the tarnished bronze into gleaming silver. The little leaves that had been added for decoration had been replaced with curling snakes. _"Alright, what else."_ Harry asked, mostly to himself.

" _These muggles,"_ Nagini hissed and Harry looked to the portrait of the muggle family on the wall.

 _"_ _I'm not sure I know how to change pictures,"_ Harry confessed with a frown, _"I'll just banish it to the attic and eventually we can put something else there."_

The most fun task of all was decorating the dated kitchen. He transfigured the countertops into granite and made the wood a little darker, to match the dark wood of the dining room. Harry also spent a great deal of time making sure that the office off the foyer was decorated in Slytherin green and comfy enough to want to spend time in while also being imposing enough for a Dark Lord.

Mostly, Harry just kept working so that he didn't have to think about how his baby was almost infected because of himself. He didn't want to stress over if it would hurt or not to remove the venom from his veins. And he definitely didn't want the time to wallow about how his friends had turned on him once again.

Cleaning kept Harry busy, but the decorating truly occupied his mind. He knew that Voldemort had a very stressful load and if Harry could help, even in the smallest ways, he wanted to. Harry was so busy swapping colors and banishing all obviously muggle artifacts to the attic when he heard a throat clear behind him. "You've certainly been busy," Voldemort observed as he watched Harry jump and drop a book he had been holding.

"Merlin's balls," Harry whined as he realized he couldn't bend over to pick the book up. With an annoyed flick of his wand the book began to float upwards and then rested in Harry's hand. "You scared me."

Voldemort's crimson eyes were taking in the empty shelves of the library they were in and Harry couldn't help but wonder if he'd only made things worse. "Do you like it? I'm not done yet, but I've cleared off all the shelves so you can fill them with magical books. I didn't think your Death Eaters would like seeing anything muggle around here so I've been storing it all in the attic."

"I've only been gone four hours," Voldemort whispered as Harry followed him out and into the foyer where he had proudly displayed a rug that he had transfigured to look like one he had seen in the Slytherin Common Room in his second year. "And this place actually looks good, a bit austere but good."

Harry smiled proudly as he took Voldemort's cold hand, "Come on," Harry said as he dragged Voldemort back towards the foyer. "Wait until you see what I did to your new office."

The dark grey walls were decorated in light grey patterns while the dark hard wood floor was covered in a large emerald rug with the same pattern. There was now a large fireplace where the window had been, made out of matching black stone that the others had been transfigured into. The main feature of the room, however, was the large antique desk that Harry had only needed to tweak a bit. "I expanded the drawers, inside, once I found Hermione's copy of Advanced Transfiguration in the bottom of my trunk. But I left the security to you, I haven't had much practice in wards or anything. Oh," Harry paused to beam brightly at the squishy grey couch he had found and put in the corner. "And this is for me, I made a comfy place for me in almost every room."

Voldemort looked around the room and then down to Harry, "I know it's pretty bare," Harry said with an unsure frown, "but I just wanted it to be clean. I figured we'd collect enough stuff over time."

"Harry," Voldemort took Harry's hand and guided him out of the study, "you did a wonderful job. Now let me show you what I have been doing."

Voldemort led Harry up the staircase, pausing for several moments to admire the new bannisters in Nagini's likeness, and then down the hall on the opposite end of the house from Voldemort's bedroom. They stopped at the first door on the left and when Harry opened the room he gasped.

The walls were pure white and the hardwood flooring had been replaced with white marble. But the main focus of the room was unlike anything Harry had ever seen before. The bed in the middle of the room was sleek and modern, curved to sit in, and shiny. Harry let go of Voldemort's hand and laid down, enjoying the firm but cushioned bed as he looked up into a chandelier of glowing threads that hung so low that Harry could brush them with his fingertips. "Ah," Voldemort came closer as Harry jerked his hand away, "just be very careful, you wouldn't believe how expensive those are."

"What are they?" Harry asked as they threads swayed lightly back and forth above him.

"Woven Demiguise fibers," Voldemort told Harry as he himself brushed his fingertips along the tendril-like chords. "they are traditionally used in Invisibility Cloaks but when treated they have amazing transmitting capabilities. These fibers can absorb almost any kind of malady and they transfer it into the crystals above for storage and removal."

Harry's eyes were wide as he watched the hundreds of fibers swaying lightly. There were bundles of strands glowing a light pink that all connected to a light pink crystal. Dozens of colors and dozens of different crystals, Harry began to get dizzy as he tried to follow them all.

"It's beautiful," he whispered as he pulled himself up. Voldemort moved to help him stand, offering his hand to help keep Harry balanced.

"It is even more useful than it is beautiful," Voldemort told him as he guided him back to the door.

"But is that it?" Harry asked with a confused frown. "I mean, I don't know _what_ I thought, but won't a healing bay – need more?"

Voldemort laughed and he was joined by two more, high pitched laughs. Harry turned to the hallway and found Healers Rosier and Fawley behind him. "If a healing bay need more than a top of the line Free Flowing Fibernetics Mesh then you're probably going to die anyway."

Harry flushed and ducked his head, "Sorry, it's just muggle hospitals are so full of stuff that it just kind of looks a little bare."

Healer Rosier flashed Harry a brilliantly white smile as she winked at him, "But muggles need all those noisy machines because they don't have magic. Come with me," she grabbed Harry's hand and led him over to the far wall where Harry hadn't realized there was a large sheet of glass mounted on the wall.

"What is this?" he asked as Healer Rosier laid her hand on the glass. Almost immediately the glass came alive and Harry stepped back as he saw a picture of himself on the glass in the top left-hand corner. Below his picture, were his heart rate and blood pressure.

"This is a Looking Glass X, top of the line monitoring system and medical miracle." She waved her hand and Harry's vitals were swept away. "Now, while you've been busy so have Healer Fawley and I."

Voldemort stepped forward into the room and came to stand beside Harry as Healer Rosier gestured with her hand. "Now from what we have mapped out so far," with another sweeping gesture the Looking Glass X brought up a three dimensional image, "this is the womb inside you Harry."

Harry stared in wonder as he watched the blue holographic bubble turn. Inside, he could see organs, but he was immediately drawn to the tiny human ensconced in the middle. It was no bigger than a green bell pepper and Harry could feel himself crying, again. "I'd like to introduce you to your baby boy, Harry, my Lord."

"He's beautiful," Voldemort whispered as Harry stared up in wonderment, tears running freely. He didn't think he'd ever been as happy as he was in that moment. He was going to have a baby boy.

"From what I can tell so far," Healer Rosier swiped her hand and turned the holographic globe around, "Harry is roughly eighteen weeks pregnant. After thorough analysis, I have come to the conclusion that this sphere does not change in size. Instead of growing slowly over time as with a female pregnancy, this sphere starts and ends the same size."

"The sphere works almost like an incubator," Healer Fawley joined in from beside Healer Rosier. "Currently we think the sphere could even survive outside of the father as long as the placenta had a supply of blood stored up. However, from what we can tell, because the sphere doesn't grow Harry, you will be dealing with mid to late pregnancy symptoms even now. The frequent need to pee and the heartburn are being caused by the sphere pressing on your bladder and diaphragm as a uterus would in a female during late stage pregnancy."

Harry watched, mesmerized, as the sphere was moved and a human body materialized. They showed him how the sphere was pressing against his organs and how his baby would grow inside of him. "How – I mean, what will the birthing be like? I mean I don't have the parts for that."

"Ah, I'm so glad you asked, I was just getting to that." Healer Rosier swiped her hand again and the image of his son came back on the screen. "So Healer Fawley and I have been searching for any birthing procedures that may have been cast in when the sphere was made. So far we haven't found any, which means once you reach thirty-two weeks Harry, we will be monitoring you closely for signs of rupture in your amniotic sac."

"Now obviously we want to keep the little guy in for as long as possible," Healer Fawley picked up fluidly, "But since you don't have a cervix we need to watch very closely to be sure we catch your water breaking. If it breaks before your fortieth week, Healer Rosier will cut you open and remove your son almost like a C-Section."

Harry swallowed loudly and wrapped and arm around his baby boy, "And if it doesn't rupture before week forty?"

"Don't worry Harry," Healer Rosier smiled, "It just means that your baby will be born in the in the amniotic sac and I'll have to rupture it manually. It won't hurt the baby any."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and felt himself relax. "Now," Healer Fawley guided Harry to the bed, "Healer Rosier will be here to monitor you after we remove the venom from your blood. She can answer any more questions you may have and I'm sure she would love to give you the run down on pregnancy do's and don'ts but right now, we need to get to work."

With a nod, Harry took a deep, shaky breath and laid back on the comfy bed. "Is this going to hurt him," Voldemort asked as Healer Fawley began attaching threads that glowed light pink to Harry's wrist.

"It might feel cold," Healer Fawley admitted, "and you might get very drowsy, Harry. If that happens I need you to let me know so that I can slow down and let you recuperate a bit, okay?"

Harry nodded as he watched the glowing thread wrap around his wrist before the end plunged into his skin. Harry snapped his eyes closed and decided he definitely shouldn't watch. He might be sick if he had to see another thread go inside of him.

His nausea was relieved a bit by a cold hand grasping his and another pressing lightly on his forehead. Opening one eye, Harry found Voldemort looking down at him. "Thanks," Harry whispered as he felt a thread being wrapped around his thigh, "I'm actually rather nervous."

"Don't be," Voldemort whispered back with a mischievous wink, "Fawley knows her life is tied to yours. She won't let anything happen to you."

Harry shoved Voldemort with a playful scowl and turned to Healer Fawley, "Don't listen to _him_ , what he meant to say was that you're the best and if anyone could keep me alive it's you."

Healer Fawley laughed airily for a moment and smiled at Harry, "You're going to be just fine Mr. Potter, you want to know how I know?" Harry nodded. "Because you have been through so much worse than this and lived to tell the tale. Alright, now relax…I'm going to start in 3…2…1…"

Healer Fawley ran a finger down the thread connected to Harry's wrist and he could feel the chill set in almost immediately. It wasn't bad at first, but as Fawley kept activating threads, the worse and worse it got. Once all the glowing threads were activated Harry could hear his teeth chattering. "I – Oh I don't l-l-like this."

"Harry," Voldemort whispered as he ran his fingers through Harry's hair, "Harry look at me." Harry cracked open his eyes and found Voldemort's crimson orbs staring down at him. "We're having a boy, Harry." It was impossible for Harry not to return the small smile playing on Voldemort's thin lips. "We need to think of names."

"Oh," Harry murmured as the chill began to spread deep within his core, "Y-You can't n-name him something stupid…I-I'm taking S-Salazar off the table."

"Of course Harry," Voldemort acquiesced with a humorous glint in his eyes, "But then I get to take one off the table as well." When Harry nodded his agreement he continued, "I veto Godric."

Despite the cold that seemed to have settled in his bones, Harry managed a small, airy laugh. "Deal," he whispered quietly. But his amusement faded as the room began to tilt and his body grew heavy. Before Harry could release a whimper, Voldemort snapped at Healer Fawley.

"He's turning grey," Voldemort hissed angrily, "What's happening?"

"No, no this shouldn't be happening," Healer Fawley cried as she drew her wand. "Harry? Harry can you hear me? I need you to listen to my voice okay? Don't pass out on me got it?"

Harry tried to nod but wasn't sure if he managed. "S'okay," he slurred through the fog that had settled over him. He tried to keep track of the voices to help him fight through the darkness that was pressing in on him.

"What's happening?" Harry heard Voldemort demand in high-pitched, maniacal voice. Harry's untethered arm flopped down as he tried to find Voldemort's hand.

"There's something else in his system," Healer Fawley cried and Harry could vaguely feel her attaching more threads to his body. "I don't understand, my scans didn't detect any other foreign substances."

"Do something!"

"I am!" she cried anxiously, "Harry? Harry are you still with me?"

"Mmmmmm," Harry tried to say, but his tongue felt heavy and stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Harry, I need you to tell me," he could feel her working another thread to his throat. "Have you been bitten by anything else? Anything at all?"

"Sp-spider," Harry used every last ounce of strength he had to as his vision grew dark. He could no longer keep his eyes open.

"What, what did he say?"

"He said spider," Voldemort snapped furiously, "Harry when the bloody hell have you been bitten by a spider?"

But Harry couldn't respond. He couldn't move his jaw. He couldn't move his body that felt as if it had been weighed down with lead. But he could see the thousands of Aragog's children behind his eyelids, all racing towards him and Ron in the forbidden forest.

"Shit, he's seizing!"


	7. I Want a Dragon

**DOGWOOD**

There was pleasant humming when Harry came to. He wanted to turn and curl back in the warmth but the fluttering in his stomach jolted Harry into the land of the living. He cracked open an eye and found Healer Fawley standing over him, not humming but chanting. Her Healer's robes had been left on the side of the bed and her brown hair looked as if she had touched a wall socket. It stood nearly on end and her black eye makeup had smeared a little down her face. "Rough night?" Harry asked he tried to prop himself up on his elbows.

Healer Fawley gave him a glare worthy of Draco Malfoy. "I will have you know Mr. Potter," she scolded Harry angrily, "that the child inside of you is going to expand our knowledge in biochemical bonds, organ manufacturing, and not to mention the sphere itself which has both physical and metaphysical properties."

Harry could feel himself flushing as she spoke, he didn't understand most of what she said. "Could you…translate that into English?"

"It means," her voice clouded with annoyance, "that I gave up my residency to see history up close and personal, not to have you _die_ in my care. What in Merlin's beard were you thinking not telling me you _also_ had Acromantula venom inside you?"

"I mean – I didn't really think about – it was so long ago and nothing ever happened. I thought maybe the cut just wasn't infected." Harry bowed his head and looked down, realizing for the first time that the bruises over his abdomen were gone. It was then he realized that he was seeing Healer Fawley without the aid of his glasses. "Whoa, I can see!"

His healer scoffed as if she were offended by his surprise. "Of course you can see, I've spent most of the day repairing your body while you slept." She paused as she sat down next to Harry and he saw her eyes soften. "Acromantula venom isn't lethal usually, Harry, it doesn't injure your cells like most venoms do. It's frightening because it lurks very deep in the body, putting the victim into a conscious coma so the spiders can feed."

Shivers ran through as he thought about what would have happened if the venom had worked properly. "Why didn't it work when I was scratched?" Harry asked his healer, "Why did it only now show?"

"Haemotoxic venom goes straight for the bloodstream," Healer Fawley told him as she waved her wand in the air. Harry watched as she created a visual of the venom entering and corrupting the bloodstream. "But Acromantula venom is neurotoxin, it seeps into the parts of your brain controlling your motor skills and shuts them down."

"I don't understand though," Harry told Healer Fawley as she smiled at him, "How does it being a neurotoxin change anything, shouldn't I still be affected?"

Healer Fawley glanced around the empty before leaning forward with an excited smile, "Has he told you? About your scar?"

Her excited eyes made Harry's stomach lurch, "Uh, yeah, but I didn't know he told anyone else." It had seemed like a secret of the highest priority. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about her knowing about it.

"Don't worry Harry," she soothed his troubled mind, "the Dark Lord has Healer Rosier and I under many, many oaths. I couldn't tell anyone even if I wanted to."

"So how does me being a Horcrux stop a neurotoxin?" He asked as he sat up. Healer Fawley held out her hands to help propel himself as she spoke.

"I've never seen anything like it really," Fawley admitted sheepishly, "Horcruxes aren't generally open for study, so you're incredibly rare. But the Horcrux didn't _stop_ the neurotoxin, it _absorbed_ it. It was only once I started to the process of sucking the venom out that I breached the barrier in your mind and released the venom."

Warmth spread through Harry as he realized that Voldemort's soul had saved him. "Can I ask you something?" He asked Fawley quietly and when she nodded he continued, "The _other_ me, the one from a different world or whatever, he said that he had bonded with the soul shard, what does that mean?"

The frown creasing Healer Fawley's face made Harry's stomach drop. "I'm not sure," she admitted as she released a frustrated growl, "But that's why the Dark Lord chose me. Animology, magic dealing with the soul, is an uncharted branch of magic and I plan to work very closely with you to map it out."

"So you'll help me then?" Harry asked as his bright smile returned, "You'll help me find out what the other me meant by bonded?"

"Of course," she agreed, "By the time you deliver this baby, I suspect you and I will be sick of each other." Harry laughed and for the first time in a very long time, he felt content. He was happy and safe, he had amazing healers to care for him and the baby, and no one was looking at him as if he was carrying the spawn of Satan.

Voldemort had truly kept his promises. Harry felt safe, protected, and happy – all foreign feelings that Harry was trying to normalize inside himself. He didn't want his baby to grow up with the fear and harm that Harry himself had. Healer Fawley interrupted Harry's inner musings with a dainty cough, "I've done all I can to heal your body – I'm afraid that with the baby inside of you I can't administer anything to help your malnourished bones other than a vitamin supplement that Healer Rosier helped me concoct. You need to take it three times a day, one vial with each meal, okay?"

Harry nodded as he watched her place the potions on the nightstand. "Alright, now I'll mostly be working from afar unless I'm called but on Sundays, we'll get together and try to figure out what it means to be a human horcrux, okay?"

"Thanks for everything, doc," Harry told her gratefully, "I don't even want to think of how awful this could have been without you."

"It's my pleasure Harry," she told him with a small smile.

Harry watched her lean back and disappear into a plume of black smoke. When he was alone, Harry stretched and decided he needed a shower and food. So he made his way across the hall and started the taps for a quick shower. When he was clean, Harry made his way to the kitchen. To his surprise, Voldemort was already in the kitchen nursing a steaming cup of coffee and reading _The Daily Prophet._

"Oh," Harry stopped for a moment at the sight of Voldemort. "Good morning."

"Good morning Harry," Voldemort hummed without taking his eyes from the paper.

Moving to the refrigerator, Harry watched as Voldemort took a sip of his coffee and his eyes slid closed for a moment of pure enjoyment. "You're staring, Harry."

Harry jumped and turned back to the fridge, "Just a bit jealous," Harry lied as he reached in to grab a carton of eggs. "Can't have coffee while I'm up the duff. Do you want some eggs?"

For the first time Voldemort looked away from his paper and grimaced when he found Harry wearing Dudley's cast offs. "That would be nice," Voldemort agreed as he set his paper down, "Do you own any clothes that you aren't swallowed by? Great Salazar, you have the stomach of a nine-month pregnancy and you can hardly tell with those clothes!"

Harry felt his cheeks redden as he turned on the stove. "My school clothes don't fit anymore." He admitted, not turning around to see Voldemort.

Harry heard the paper hit the table with a smack and the scrape of the wooden chair being pushed out. But he didn't look back until he felt Voldemort within arms-reach. Voldemort was leaning with one arm against the countertop, crimson eyes following Harry. "If you need something Harry," he sounded strained, as if annoyed but not wanting to let it show, "you have to tell me. I can't read your mind, if I don't know something is a problem I can't fix it."

Harry relented with a nod, "Fine but while we're on the subject of problems – where have you been sleeping? I've been in the bed every night since I've arrived."

If anything, Voldemort seemed amused by the sudden turn in the conversation. "The bedroom next to mine has decent mattress," he told Harry as he returned to his coffee, "and it is close to you should you or the baby need anything during the night."

Splitting the eggs onto two plates, Harry set Voldemort's down in front of him and then took a seat across the table. "I don't want to take your room from you, I'll start looking for one I can move in to."

"Actually," Voldemort leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, "I would prefer it if you would stay there for the time being. As you mentioned, I do have quite a lot on my list to do and since you are already in the process of making this place livable I've decided to spend the day warding us from harm."

Harry swallowed a bite of his eggs before he asked, "But what does that have to do with where I sleep?"

"My room is the only room protected right now," Voldemort informed him as he took a bite of his own eggs. "It would please me a great deal if you could stay in my room – at least until I have the entire house warded."

With a nod of acceptance Harry reached for the paper. _The Daily Prophet_ held no news of Voldemort's return. The main article was over a scandal involving Celestina Warbeck and an up and coming artist named Gabriel Auckland. Harry turned the page, not interested in the gossip of famous people's love lives. Who cared that Celestina had run off with an artist for a weekend getaway?

"Is there anything you need?" Voldemort asked, interrupting Harry's perusal of the classifieds. It was odd and yet fascinating to see the listings for magical artifacts being sold and the help wanted ads for everything from a curse breaker to a herbologist. "I don't think I should be back in the house before supper, so now is your chance for any requests."

Harry thought about it for a moment, considering what he could do to fill his time up. For a moment, a pang of loneliness shot through him. He missed having Ron and Hermione around but as Harry looked at Voldemort and thought about everything he had already provided, he couldn't bring himself to tell the man who had already provided much more than anyone had ever had. "No," he said as he took another bite of his breakfast, "I should be able to find something to do. The house still needs a lot of work and I have my old school books if I get tired."

"How entertaining," sarcasm dripped from Voldemort's words, "I expected at least a list of things to procure while I'm out."

Harry pushed his plate away and leaned back in the chair. Dealing with a Voldemort who wasn't trying to kill him made his head hurt. He didn't want to ask for more than he'd already been given but Harry knew he was right. He would get really bored by the time lunch rolled around. "Fine if you want a list, I'll make one."

Just as Harry stood to leave, Voldemort called out, "I'll be leaving in an hour."

Harry marched back to Voldemort's room as he tried to think of the most outlandish requests. Maybe if he came up with a long enough list Voldemort would stop hounding him for _stuff_ he needed. What he needed was a friend. Someone to come over and hang out – preferably not throwing abortion charms at him. If he were honest with himself, he was more angry at himself than he was annoyed with Voldemort. Voldemort was just providing, as he had sworn to do, it was Harry who had only made two friends during his entire time at Hogwarts. And some friends they turned out to be.

Finding parchment and ink in his trunk, Harry thought about things he probably did really need. He knew he needed to know more about the baby and how it was developing, so the first on the list was _baby books._ Harry also knew he couldn't fly until after the baby was born so he needed something to occupy his time. _Catalogs,_ Harry wrote just under the books. _Baby Stuff, Books, Clothes, Furniture, etc._

At least then he could shop from home as he needed. Harry smiled at mundane requests and decided to spice up the list with a _Dragon._ He chuckled as beneath that he wrote, _Hedwig._ He hadn't seen his owl since he had run from the Order and Harry missed her terribly. If Voldemort could find her, all the better, but the idea of him hunting Hedwig down was enough to make him laugh quietly to himself.

Getting serious, Harry knew that in the near future there would be war. Voldemort had confirmed it and Dumbledore was already preparing for it. Harry knew he needed to get serious about his magical education so that he could protect his child should the need arise. So under _Hedwig_ he wrote _DADA/DA Books._ Hopefully Voldemort would have a better sense of what kind of books he should study then Harry and could choose what he thought was best from the selections available.

After adding a few odds and ends for hygiene and comfort – Harry padded back down the stairs in better spirits. He found Voldemort in his office, sitting behind his desk and scribbling madly on parchment. "Busy?" Harry asked as he knocked lightly on the door.

Voldemort looked up and set his quill down, "Not at all, come in." When Harry sat in the sofa he had arranged in the corner Voldemort asked, "Did you come up with a list?"

"Yeah," Harry sent it floating towards Voldemort with his wand and laid down on his side with a pillow to cushion his head.

Harry watched as Voldemort glanced at the list in eager anticipation. "You want a dragon?" the Dark Lord asked incredulously as Harry dissolved into a fit of giggles. "You do know we live in a muggle town?"

"Great," Harry laughed, "it will already have food."

For a moment, Voldemort stared at Harry but then it seemed even he couldn't suppress the barest hint of a smile. "Aside from the dragon, I see no unreasonable requests. Any last-minute adjustments before I leave?"

"We could train the dragon to protect the baby from Dumbledore and his Order?" Harry asked, dissolving into another round of laughter. His whole body felt light and carefree for the first time. As he sat up and saw the humor in Voldemort's bloody eyes, Harry realized for the umpteenth time that he could do anything he wanted to do all day and there would be no one there to stop him. _He could even do magic._

And that's exactly what he did. Voldemort left with only one rule, not to leave the house while he was gone, and then Harry was free to do as he liked. He spent his morning exploring the house further. He had found that there was another bedroom across the hall from Voldemort's, right next to the bathroom that Harry thought would be perfect for the baby.

After lunch, Harry cleaned the entire space out and was pleasantly surprised to find it perfect for a nursery. By the time it was time to stop for a break Harry was performing most of his charms and transfigurations silently, which Harry had prided himself on after seeing Voldemort use so much wandless and wordless magic.

When the cleaning was done, Harry knew his energy had been zapped. He headed down to Voldemort's office with the intention of dozing by the fire, but curiosity had always been a weakness of Harry's. The parchments Voldemort had been writing on were still laid out and Harry couldn't help but take a peak. What he found made him wish he had never looked. At the top of the parchment was _AZKABAN._


End file.
